


Silver Sky

by shatteredstar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredstar/pseuds/shatteredstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry always did have the weirdest luck... but this was becoming ridiculous!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Starts In Confusion

Harry blinked, trying to gain some perspective that would tell him where he was. Looking around though, there were no defining features in the bright silver mist that surrounded him. Quickly realizing that if he couldn't figure out where he was then he should at least try to figure out how he got here he sat down, trying to remember the last thing that he could recall. Trying as hard as he could he finally managed to dislodge his memories of the last day he spent on earth.

Finally, they were preparing for the last battle; Harry tried not to feel guilty about the fact that he had allowed Nagini to escape that night, while telling others that he had killed her. Once Harry would have felt far more guilty than exalted about what he had done, but that was before he had discovered the truth.

When he had come of age in the wizarding world, at seventeen, he had gone to Gringotts at the request of the Potter account manager, Ragnarok. When he had gotten there the goblin had given him a statement, telling him that he was far richer than he had ever dreamed, in fact, it was almost terrifying to him exactly how much money he had. Shakily looking up at the account manager he couldn't help but ask. "Exactly how rich does this make me compared to other wizards?" Ragnarok had given him a toothy grin and practically chuckled "young lord Potter, you are the richest wizard in England, and that is before you add in the Black inheritance, which is admittedly mostly rare volumes and tomes of magical knowledge. All in all young lord, I would say that if you put every one of the vault's that belong to the pure blood families together and multiplied it by 2, they would be worth half of your Potter vaults." After that the goblin couldn't repress his chuckles any longer at the expression on the pale face in front of him. He had grown fond of the boy.

After recovering from his mirth, he had then handed over a packet of papers for the boy to look through. Harry had first found a letter from his mother, basically just saying that she loved him and that she was sorry that she couldn't be there for him. He also found a letter from his father… this one had been an eye opener, it told him that his father didn't trust Dumbledore, something about the look upon the man's face while casting the Fidelius charm over them and Peter had given him shivers. However when he had discussed it with Lily she had been adamant that Dumbledore would never do anything to them, and to trust him. He had given in, but if Harry was reading this letter then he had been correct about this issue. Peter had been far too much of a lapdog to Dumbledore recently in his opinion, and while he didn't agree with the decisions Dumbledore had made recently, he couldn't quite bring himself to follow Voldemort either. He had gone on to explain that he had discovered that Dumbledore had been working in the shadows, putting more restrictions on magical creatures, while pretending to stand against them, so that the creatures would choose to follow him. He was helping corrupt officials into power so that he could control their actions through their fear of what Dumbledore would reveal to the public about them. While all of this was indeed bad, James had felt that at least Dumbledore wasn't resorting to killing people to get his way. Whereas Voldemort was killing people to try to force them to separate from the muggle world, because he felt that the muggles would destroy them if given half a chance. He went on to say that he, Harry, should be very careful between the two, both had their agendas. He said that the reason he left this information because he loved his son, and he wanted to make sure that he wasn't used as a pawn in the grand ideals of a couple of megalomaniacs who were going about ruling the world in two different ways. 

After reading over the letters from his parents, he couldn't help but feel that his father was just a little too paranoid, but he appreciated the fact that his father had loved him enough to give him warning of something that he had feared to come to pass… that is what he thought until he read the next document. His parents will came next, and it was a shock to him that he was to have gone to different people in the case of his parents' deaths. First would have been Sirius, followed by the Longbottoms, then Amelia Bones, followed by Dumbledore… and after this the will had emphatically stated that even if every one of the people on this list were to have dropped dead he was to never ever go to the Dursleys. That gave him pause. After several moments Harry chose to move on to the next part of the documents, the statements that were all of the transactions since his parents died. He hadn't expected to see much here, after all there had been no authorized usage of funds during that time, so he was truly surprised at the thickness of the stack. 

Looking at Ragnarok, he had to ask him to summarize the pile for him. Ragnarok looked surprised and said that it was just the transfer of funds to his guardians after the monthly reviews by Dumbledore to make sure he was being brought up properly… this was where Harry's faith had crumbled, because now he had concrete proof that Dumbledore hah known of all of his treatment at the hands of the Dursleys. After going through the papers in detail, he was drenched in a cold sensation, Dumbledore had more than known about the treatment, he had ordered it… all of it. The slavery, verbal abuse, beatings and the … other. Dumbledore had paid them to do that… out of Harry's own vaults! But never before had he hated himself for his gullibility as he did at the end of those papers, because Dumbledore wasn't only paying the Dursleys, he was paying Hermione, and all of the Weasleys, excepting only Bill and the twins. Hell, he was even paying Dean and Seamus. At that moment Harry was excruciatingly glad that he had never told any of them about his hidden friendship with Draco Malfoy, and he was even gladder that Neville wasn't on the list of payees, Draco would have been crushed if his boyfriend was a traitor. 

The next thing he came across was an ancient pair of books, one had emblazoned across the front Potter in white gold letters, while the other simple said Black in calligraphy like golden letters. Glancing at Ragnarok curiously, he was grinned at again. "when you put on the family head of house rings, and read those books, all of the magical knowledge of the heads of house' in the past will be transferred to you. I am told that afterward you will probably be unconscious for about a day and wake up with a splitting headache." The goblin gave a humorous snort at this, and then handed him a small golden chalice. "if, you will prick your finger and let 4 drops of blood into the glass, we shall see if there are any other inheritances that you should be aware of." Following the instructions of the goblin and feeling rather horribly dazed from the way his world was spinning out of control, he dropped in his blood. A purple green smoke appeared above the chalice, forming a small list, DE 13, PAE 7. When Harry looked at the goblin, he was feeling a little confused, but the expression upon the goblins' face made him extremely nervous about what it was he had inherited. 

The goblin got up and rapidly ushered for Harry to follow him. Harry did so, feeling his nerves rise even more when without saying a word led him to an office far from where the goblins held outside business, where a decrepit goblin was sitting. The goblin looked surprised to see Ragnarok, and even more so to see Harry trailing along behind him.

With a questioning look he gestured the younger goblin forward. "How can I help you Ragnarok?" asked the elder goblin. In silent response he simply thrust forward the golden chalice above which were hovering the words of before. The goblin elder paled rapidly, and then sighed tiredly. Turning to look at the confused looking human he ushered the young one to a chair. "Young man, we have much to discuss. You have inherited by magical right two eggs. You should be aware that the last being to inherit a magical egg was Merlin, and he only had the might to inherit one egg, and that was only a pixie. You young human have inherited two of the most powerful varieties of egg, and they will come with great responsibility and probably at least some pain. You should be aware that you have the option of rejecting the eggs, and that none may blame you should you choose to do so." Harry, quietly thought about the way that had been phrased, like no one would be allowed to say they blamed him but that something precious would be lost if he rejected them. So, being Harry he simply asked "What happens to the eggs if I reject them?" the goblins both flinched when he asked this question, they had looks of grief upon their faces as the elder responded. "Every egg is born for one person, they have no other that they can bond with, if one is rejected, they will simply wither and die within their shells." A look of pain crossed his face as he considered this option. 

Harry knew that he had enough responsibilities on his shoulders at this point, but the thought of killing two babies was something that was even more horrible than what Dumbledore did to him. "So, how would I care for the eggs if I accept them?" he asked, trying to make it sound like he hadn't already made up his mind on the matter. "Well, there are two ways; you can make your body their safe harbor in which case we would magically inter them into tattoos on your body. Or you could try to find a way to keep them at the temperature of your body until they hatch."

"Which way is safer for them?" Harry asked, dropping all pretensions, "and what happens to them if we go the infusing route and I die? At this point it is looking rather likely that I will within the next year." The goblins looked at him in surprise, and then their eyes narrowed. "the safest way would be infusing them, and if they have reached maturity by the time you die they will simply move on to their respective realms, however should you die before that they will join you in death. Please keep in mind that they will not hatch until you reach your magical majority." Harry looked at him in surprise "Haven't I already reached that?" he asked. The gobbling chortled at this, "No, you see magical majority isn't tied to your age, it is when your magic reaches its plateau, its highest point of power and becomes fully available to you. It comes at different times for every magical being."

Harry was thoughtful for a while, looking up he asked "so if I reject them they die, no doubts about it. However if I accept them and then die before they reach maturity they will die anyways?" the goblins nodded. Harry sighed, "Well, why don't I see these eggs, and you tell me about them, I know that I will accept them, after all they deserve a chance to live. The real question now is what they want, and what they are." 

The goblins blinked, not having realized that they hadn't told him yet what his eggs were, the elder goblin murmured something to the younger who looked at him and nodded sharply, then turned and walked out the door of the office. The elder turned to Harry. "You have two eggs, one is the egg of a Daeva, also known as a shadow demon, they generally take the form of dogs, but can transform to others. The second is a Parasitic-Angel egg, its kind generally doesn't get seen much, and are most often seen in the form of clouds. Both of these creatures will be feeding off of you until they reach their majority, until all of you become acclimatized to each other, you may feel periods of weakness, or dizziness." As they sat in silence while Harry reviewed this information, Ragnarok came back in carrying a tray with a cushion upon which sat two eggs. Harry felt a pull that he could not resist, walking towards Ragnarok, ho tuned out both goblins who were speaking worriedly to him. With both hands out he picked an egg up in each, the deep purple one that seemed to thrum in tune with his heart beat he placed against his hip, and the gently silver one which seemed to flow like water he held over the other hand, simultaneously, both eggs sank into his flesh… and Harry felt far more complete than he ever had before. 

Coming back to himself he found that he was lying on the floor in Gringotts, and the two goblins were watching him carefully. He sat up and grinned at them, but as a thought crossed his mind that faded, "So, what do I do when they hatch?" the goblins at this point burst into raucous laughter. "That my lord, is all instinct, they will let you know when it is time what you need to do for them." Harry smiled as he felt waves of reassuring warmth and soothing cool from his eggs. Harry turned to the goblins, "can I get your help on a few different issues?" he looked between them solemnly. Ragnarok stepped forward, "If you will follow me we can go back to my office, and I can assist you in anything not to do with your younglings. Harry nodded and followed him out.

Back in Ragnarok office, Harry set up a plan, and the goblin was glad to help him for 5%, little did Harry know, he would have done it for the knowledge that the eggs had chosen him.

Finally his memories flashed back to the final battle, where his only friends had fallen, where he had faced down Voldemort, and defeated him, and where Dumbledore had shown his hand to the world by throwing an Avada Kedavra at Harry the second that Voldemort was dead, one that Harry would not have survived if Hedwig hadn't flown in it's path, saving her beloved master. Over the years, Harry had grown an amazingly tight bond with his familiar, and when her spirit had fled her body in death, he accepted it into his own, finding her place in a mark upon his forehead. Unfortunately, when this happened, it caused Harry to be caught in a backlash of his own power, where he rapidly lost consciousness.

This was where Harry had woken up, here wrapped in a strangely silver fog, waiting for he had no clue what. Now that he was firmly back in his current surroundings, he noticed that in the silver mists, forms were coming towards him. It was at this point that Harry realized he wasn't surrounded by silver mist, but snow, and that his clothing had apparently had a bad reaction to his magic back lash, so he quickly used his wandless magic to transfigure clothes upon his body that fit, including a thick white fur cloak, to keep the cold from his little ones. They still hadn't hatched and it had been nearly a year, he was beginning to worry about them. The first of the figures came forward at that point, so he allowed himself to become distracted. Observing this stranger made it quite clear to him that he was no longer in his own world, he was wearing a tunic over some sort of tight breaches, wore a long cloak and carried a bow; however this was not what signaled that this wasn't his world to him… no it was the fact that this being was a greater elf. They had left the realm of earth over six thousand years ago, he 'remembered' helping with the construction of the passage to their new realm.

The elf stopped when he saw him, allowing his fellows to catch up. And at this sight Harry could not help but laugh, an Istari, a dwarf, 4 Halflings and two humans trudged forward, halfway to being buried under the snow… and here was the elf in front of him, walking across the top of it. At the sound of his laughter (which he had to admit did sound a little insane) one of the humans swiftly brought forth his bow and shot in his direction. That stopped the laughter. "Hey!" Harry shouted. "What in the name of Merlin was that for?" Harry grabbed the arrow that had landed at his foot and attempted to get up; only to groan and collapse back into the silvescent snow as his leg told him something was wrong, looking down he had to sigh, his ankle was approximately the size of a cantaloupe. "Guess it was too much to hope for to get out of that battle with no damage." He muttered out loud. Loudly enough in fact, that the strange troupe in front of him heard.

The Istari, started slowly towards him at this point. Harry looked up warily as the old man approached him, looking for some sign that he was going to try to finish off what his partner had started. The old man stopped several feet in front of him and asked him a question in a language that the boy barely recognized, it was one of the languages gifted to him from the Black book, Westron, he thought to himself. "What are you doing in the middle of a mountain pass in a blizzard, by yourself, young one?" Harry looked at the shivering group in front of him and sighed in exasperation, with a swift wave of his hand all ten of them were encapsulated in a bubble, protecting them from the roaring winds, and with a flick of a wrist he added a heat charm to the thing, within seconds they all stopped shivering… though now all were staring at him calculatedly.

Harry looked back at the elf who was looking decidedly wary, and then looked back at the old man in front of him, thinking 'damn this guy looks like Dumbledore' Harry's mind automatically put up all of his Occlumency shields, and he swiftly transfigured the arrow into a staff, using it to stand upright. He did not want to be at a disadvantage with this man. "I am not entirely certain." He stated in Elvin.

The elf continued to watch the proceedings with un uplifted eye, there was something strange about this boy, he felt like he should know him.

Gandalf was surprised at what he was feeling emanating from this small boy. The magic that the boy had used was well outside of his capabilities. To transform things, to create heat where there was none, these were the magic's of mages, not wizards. Suddenly his mind halted... Mages. Gandalf tensed and quickly brought his staff before him in a defensive gesture. The others, seeing his movement immediately assumed that the male in front of them was a threat, and drew their own weapons… all save Legolas, who couldn't understand why the wizard was afraid of this youngling.

Harry watched them all with their weapons trained upon him and simply sighed wearily; he had seen the calculating happening behind the eyes of the old man and seen when the realization of what he was had hit him. Stepping forward he looked the man in the eye. "So this is to be my end, hmm? Going to have me killed just because I'm more powerful than you… and to think I thought we left that behavior for the orcs." He stated loudly enough that the wizard stepped back a bit.

"What do you seek here, Mage?" Gandalf demanded. The boy was quiet, and then he looked at all of them. "I seek friends that will not betray me, companionship through the end of what is bound to be my short life, and if possible a small amount of peace until my end finds me." His shoulders hunched wearily.

Legolas frowned; no child this young should expect death in this way. Stepping forward Legolas drew the attention to himself. "How old are you, and what is your name?" he noticed that Gandalf actually flinched, then took a step as if to stand between Legolas and the newcomer. The young being in front of them sighed, and then sat back down in the snow. "You don't have great manners do you?" looking at the wizard he made a gesture and raised a brow at him. "Please explain to him what he did wrong." He stated.

Without turning away from the mage, Gandalf started to explain. "Mages are very touchy about their names, they are given or choose a name upon receiving the status of mage, and from that day forward that is their public name, from the day of achieving their status they do not change unless they choose to do so; so asking their ages is a faux pas, of the highest order, they have been know to kill entire groups of people who do not follow etiquette, in this case it would have been to ask what you could call him and what his rank was." Warily eyeing the mage before him, he was relieved to see no signs of hostility, and Gandalf finally started to relax.

Finally taking in a deep breath, Gandalf swept into a deep bow; "I Gandalf the grey, request knowledge of you mage, I would request the knowledge of your rank, and by what name or title I may call you." He stood erect again while awaiting some response from the male ahead of him.

The boy sighed again, and then got up, this time obviously struggling to do so. Then standing tall (or as tall as a 5'3" male can) he inclined his head to the wizard. "Welcome Gandalf the grey, you may call me Chaos, I am the highest ranked first tier war-mage amongst my people." At this point Gandalf's eyes went wide, and he swept into another bow. "Please forgive the reception you have received my lord, it has been many centuries since you have visited our realm." The boy smiled wearily, "I can tell my friend, you hadn't even existed last time I was available to this place." Suddenly the boy stumbled, and swiftly grabbed at his left side, where everyone's attention was suddenly drawn to the blood swiftly coloring his robes an even darker scarlet.

"I'm afraid I will have to call upon your assistance, the grey, for I am at my limits, and can not heal this wound myself. May I have such?" Gandalf rushed forward to the boy, and caught him as he started to fall; at this point the fellowship had already put away their weapons, and Aragorn, strode forward to assist with the injury. The other's followed and huddled together as the heat in the dome was slowly slipping away. Mere moments after they finally stemmed the bleeding from the wounds the boy had on his side, he opened his fathomless green eyes and commanded "all of you gather near to me!" the others looked startled and after getting reassurance from Gandalf, they stepped in closer, huddling around the injured mage. They expected for him to say something; so it was with a great surprise when there was suddenly a bubble encapsulating them again. Even Gandalf appeared surprised. Gimly started demanding to know what he was up to when the mage shushed him, and then they heard it, a voice on the mountain's winds.

Gandalf gave Chaos a horribly surprised glance, "it is Saurumon!" he exclaimed, "He is trying to bring the mountain down on us!" the mage chuckled. "Parley?" he inquired of the wizard. Gandalf looked at him speculatively before nodding. "What do you demand Mage Chaos?" "My request is simple, I will guard us from the mountain, and you get me off of it still alive."

Gandalf was surprised that there was so little being expected of them, but agreed. The mage's face contorted in agony, and then the dome around them took the color of the mages blood, while still being see through; just in time, for the side of the mountain came thundering down upon them. The fellowship of the ring watched in various guises of shock, horror, and fear. Only 3 amongst the group were relaxed about this development, the mage, who was currently unconscious of everything but the power he was pouring into the shield, Gandalf; who knew of the old stories of the mages, and Legolas, who was accepting the powers that the wizard claimed the mage had. Fifteen minutes later, the snow finally stopped falling upon them, the dome went down, and the mage finally fled from the waking world.

He woke again a mere mile away from the mines of moria. He was still exhausted, but doing better for all of that. He realized suddenly that he was being carried; and not immediately realizing where he was he let out a low threatening growl. The one who was carrying him stopped abruptly, and Harry came to himself again, wondering who held him. He allowed himself to luxuriate in the sensation of being held far a moment before he shook himself awake. He noticed that the human who was carrying him was standing still now. He opened his eyes and removed himself from the arms that held him. Looking around he watched as the fellowship tensed at his swift motions. He noticed a throbbing in his left side. "ahh, so that was what I forgot." He muttered to himself; sighing he reached for his wand. Only to find that it was missing. He turned to Gandalf; "I don't suppose you have my wand?" he queried dangerously. Gandalf looked at him in apparent startlement before he replied. "I saw no such thing near you when you fell and found none upon your person. Harry sighed… he had to admit that this was just typical. He took a deep breath and held his hands over his wounds and sent his magic into them. Healing himself this way hurt much more than it did with a wand, he couldn't quite focus it into a tight enough beam to minimize the pain. He let out a grunt and Gandalf shot him a shocked look, which brought the focus of the fellowship entirely upon him. Finally Harry fell to his knees gasping and pale and fully healed. When the human that had carried him went forward to help him up Gandalf quickly sent him an abortive gesture, stilling him immediately.

Harry ignored the people around him and decided that a singly Accio shouldn't harm anything. He cast as strongly as he could for his wand to come to him, after all if it wasn't in this world it wasn't likely to come to his hand. No more than a minute later his wand came flying to him, something heavy hanging off the end dripping something. He took a minute to examine it and then he threw his head back and looked at the sky. He let a single tear fall from his eye. "I warned you to never touch my wand old man." He whispered; the others had been straining their senses towards this strange mage and heard it clearly, they drew their attention back to the wand and realized that the dripping lump was an old man's hand, it had been severed from the wrist, and was still warm.

The mage stood, making swift gestures with his wand and the fellowship watched in awe as things began to appear around him. There was one large trunk, which he quickly shrunk down into a small pocket sized object they did not recognize. A sword of great beauty and obvious strength appeared next, and until it was gripped by the mage it was wreathed in flames; as he touched it it sank into his forearm and disappeared, the mage sighed then, as if in great relief. Next came a book, one that from the expression on gandalf's face he recognized. After that came an object that looked to be a large teardrop, and as the mage gripped it he stopped what he was doing.

Harry stopped as he summoned his Chira; he was going to need help. He turned to Gandalf (it still creeped him out the similarities between him and Dumbledore) and showed him the object. The wizard and the young mage shared a knowing look and Gandalf nodded. "we will need to set up a camp here for the night." He announced to the group; they had been observing the undercurrents between the two magical beings and didn't dare to say anything… but the two who watched the most carefully noticed the worry in bright green eyes; and the hidden terror in the blue of gandalfs. Legolas and Aragorn shared a look, something was going on… and they weren't sure that they wanted to know.


	2. Conversations and Remembrances

As the fellowship of the ring set about setting up camp Gandalf approached Harry cautiously. For a moment Harry, caught in his musings didn’t notice his presence but shook himself out of his thoughts and turned to speak with the elderly wizard.

  
 “What do you seek to know, the grey, that I can answer?” was Harry’s quiet query.  
“

What have you summoned, I recognize the Fayth stone that you carry as such; but I do not know what you expect of us now that you have fulfilled your side of the bargain we struck.” Gandalf was quite earnest when he quietly replied to Harry’s question, and was gripping his staff quite tightly.

Harry could not help but smile at the fear that Gandalf could not help but show to him; not out of pleasure but rather a gentle amusement that one who was so much older than he could be frightened of him when he had yet to show any sign of hostility. With a small sigh he gestured towards a log and waited for Gandalf to settle himself. Once settled the grey eyes of the older wizard turned to the younger with slight impatience, causing Harry’s smile to widen slightly as he stepped forward to answer him quietly. “I have summoned a Chira that is bound to my family, it has been centuries since we have walked this world and we need the knowledge that the Chira gather to themselves to understand what our place is in this time of this world… no, I am not asking you to tell me” he quickly said in response to Gandalf's mouth opening to start telling him what he knew. “I need an impersonal point of view; and while I know what you are Maiar, I also can tell that you have walked amongst the mortal’s for too long of a time to be truly impartial as I need to be when I make my choices.”

Gandalf looked solemn for a moment before giving a slow nod and turning inward with his thoughts. Harry turning to watch the camp several yards away decided that he needed to make a quick announcement and strode towards the fire that already the human that had carried him had a rabbit roasting over. “May I have all of your attention for a moment please? Thank you, I need to let all of you know that I have summoned a creature here to give me some knowledge that I lack in this present time… as such I would appreciate if none of you would cause it any harm as if harm were to come to the Chira I would be forced to avenge it.” At their acknowledging nods he gave them a swift smile and a short bow, and turned back to Gandalf, who was still sitting upon the log a short ways away. “The grey? I seem to have been remiss in not asking your name, would you honor me with such?”

“Gandalf” was the simple reply of the old Maiar in gray robes. “I know that it is not my place to ask you this, but I feel the need to ask all the same.” Harry gave him a sharp glance and then turned his back upon the man and gave an even sharper nod. Gandalf held in his sigh of relief as he continued. “I actually have a few questions…. First, you spoke of a time when you were here previously, when I was not yet of this world, when was this? And also, why did you leave, or return for that matter? Or even more confusing is that I know my purpose in the world but what is yours?” Gandalf realized rather abruptly that he was asking in depth questions without leaving Harry time to answer and quieted himself… and then promptly blanched as he realized he had not asked in the proper protocol of a mage, he could not help but shiver a little as he held himself still, hoping desperately that Chaos would not be offended by his manner. Little did he know that harry was hiding a smile at the old man’s babble.

Without turning to the Istari he took a deep breath, letting it go, he sighed as he had a small flashback to that fateful trip to Gringott's bank.

IN RAGNAROK’S OFFICE

Still reeling internally about what he had learned this day he sat slouched in the chair across the desk from Ragnarok. Finally he steeled himself and forced himself to do a quick review of what he knew; Dumbledore was paying the Dursley's to treat him like they did… which now that he thought about it, completely explained… the other. The Dursley's for all of their blather about his uselessness had been paid to keep him. He had more money than he knew what to do with… which had been hidden from him by Dumbledore. He was the Lord of two ancient families, and he should have known about that much sooner than he had.

As he went over these he realized that there must be a lot more that he didn’t know about that had to be a part of Dumbledore’s schemes; and he needed to find out what that was. The more he accepted these painful facts the quicker his brain came up with questions, and so he turned to Ragnarok and started to ask some of the first to come to mind. “As a lord of families do I have specific duties?” was the first to come from his mouth.

Ragnarok smiled a sharp-toothed grin that if Harry hadn’t been so desperately holding himself together might have frightened him. “Indeed, young lord you have several duties. First duty can be held at the end of this conversation… do you remember the tomes that I handed to you earlier?”

“Of course,” replied the boy, thinking about what the goblin had said about them “you said that if I read them while wearing the rings I would gain all the knowledge of the previous lords… wait a minute if I can gain knowledge like that what is the point of going to school? Wouldn’t all the ancient houses just give the books to their children and have them temporarily wear the rings so that they would learn quickly?”

At the well thought out question Ragnarok grinned even more broadly. “Indeed Mr. potter; if they could do that a great many families would train their youngsters in that fashion. Unfortunately, while nearly every ancient house of the wizarding world has the books that match the family head ring; unless the magic of the book themselves considers you worthy they are completely invisible, only the caretakers and the chosen can see the books at all, and only the chosen can read from them.” Here the goblin looked closely at Harry and continued when he had verified that Harry was indeed listening to him. “You are the first wizard in over 154 years to see even one book much less the two that were given to you; that combined with the two eggs that you have been deemed worthy of parenting is a much larger deal than you could understand right now.”

Harry thought about the answer to the first question he had asked and realized that in a way it had been completely answered, because the book itself would tell him of his duties. With a quick decisive nod to himself he turned his attention back to the goblin sitting in front of him and asked his next one. “Do you have a way to see any other ways that Dumbledore may have imposed himself upon my life?” this question was asked quietly… but there was no mistaking the anger being held in check.

Ragnarok sat back in his high chair and was visibly thinking how to answer the young lord. Finally he made a decision while looking Harry in the eye he leaned forward and quietly said “We as goblins have many magics that are intrinsic to our race they are abilities that are literally woven into the fabric of our existence; the rarest of these powers is the ability to read ones magic and usually we do not discuss this, as it is a precious gift that the wizards at one point tried to strip from us. Because we at Gringott’s did not help you prevent theft from your vaults I will allow you to have this gift used on you… in return I ask that you never speak of it to wizards or witches.”

Harry nodded quickly and followed the goblin when he got up. Swiftly leaving the office section of Gringott’s behind they headed deep into the tunnels of the bank until finally the goblin stopped before what appeared to be a blank wall. It took but a moment for the goblin to find something hidden in the rock but once he did the wall swung into itself leaving a doorway. He entered a large cavern after Ragnarok and followed him to a young looking goblin female who spent but a moment looking at Ragnarok before nodding and gesturing for harry to follow her; harry followed without commenting not looking back at the goblin he left behind for fear of losing sight of the swift gobliness. After many minutes of following he came before a large clean pond and on the other side of the cavern was a pedestal. The gobliness quickly caught his attention and mimed for him to remove his clothing and swim across the water and then continued to gesture that he should sit upon the pedestal; harry had quickly caught on that he wasn’t to speak when she held a finger to her lips when he opened his mouth and quickly pantomimed what she said for verification. She nodded to him and he silently sighed and nodded.

After a moment of waiting he realized that she wasn’t going to leave; blushing brightly he dropped his head to hide his red cheeks, unknowingly giving her a large amount of amusement, and swiftly undressed, taking a moment to fold his overly large rag-like garments and stepped to the water… this was going to be cold, he just knew it would be. Finally with a quiet sigh he stepped forward and completed the actions requested of him.

It took him over an hour to get across what had appeared to be a simple pond. The appearance of the water was indeed deceptive as he found when he entered he felt something shift around him and suddenly the pond was a lake with a current that would put the undercurrent of the ocean to shame. Harry by no means was a great swimmer; he had very little practice at such things, a few school field trips in his former years. But he could float with the best of them, and as he strained desperately not to drown he felt his magic help him in his struggle against drowning here in this place far below the ground.

Eventually he reached the other side and literally crawled upon the ground to the small altar like pedestal upon the far shore, he sat upon it and desperately tried to sit up straight… it was rather a sad attempt though, his exhaustion showing through in his posture. Eventually as he sat there he grew colder and felt his body become even more chilled. He quickly accepted that he couldn’t maintain a dignified stance and curled up to retain his warmth; slightly surprised that his magic was once again trying to help him… it was now straining to keep him warm and lessen the shudders that his shivers quickly grew into.

BACK WITH THE CAMP

Legolas watched Chaos as he sat upon a rock a short distance from Mithrandir; his back turned to the grey wizard. He blessed the sharp hearing of his people for he felt a desperate urge to hear anything and everything that the mage would say. He had only once before felt such a strong pull, and he had been rewarded by the tight brother-like friendship with Estel. He listened intently as the mage sighed and twisted upon his rock to see the wizard.

“I was here once long ago; the first of the Valar had need of my services. Melkyor had been enthralled with the vampires of several nearby realms and wanted to create his own with all of the traits that he most admired in them. He made a few mistakes in their construction and while they had minds and great possibility, they lacked any form of control over their powers and their bloodlust.

The Valar had agreed that he could create a race since he had been yearning to and so would not destroy the vampires. But they also could not let them reign unchecked upon Middle Earth. As such they called upon me to help them; I had a great deal of experience with the vampires of my then current realm and a great deal of power and knowledge, I found a way to give the vampires the control they desperately needed, and unintentionally took a great price from them.  
Vampires used to be able to shape-shift and at one time they could travel in the sun… my aid cost them that but gave them control over their bloodlust and their bodies. Many considered it an even trade; and a few declared me a monster unworthy of life. Either way; I was distraught to have cost them so much, and could not bring myself to inflict my presence upon them and left shortly there-after.”

The mage gave a quiet sigh. “I was promised a place in this world to recuperate if I should ever need it, and so apparently they have decided that I have need of such and am here. I await my Chira to confirm this or to tell me how I am needed.” The mage stood then and turned to the wizard; “I will not be traveling with you any further either way; I feel a call being sent to me… I have noticed the anxious glances that you have cast towards the mountains, and the call leads me in another direction. You need not worry about my presence after this night.” And following these simple words he used his staff to regain his feet and walked away into a stand of trees a distance away, quickly swallowed up by the treeline.

Legolas accepted that Harry would not stay, but felt a sharp, hard pang of sadness that the mage would not be with them. He quickly turned his attention back to the fire and thought over what had been said; feeling awe at the power the young appearing man must have, to have gained to attention of the Valar. He shook his head and let his thoughts drift… he wondered what was calling to the wizard…

 

Harry sighed as he felt the shadows of the treeline embrace him into their depths; he had felt the curious gazes of his watchers. And while not meaning him any harm it had been unsettling. He was glad now that the book of black had been the first to be read, and as such the memories offered were the first to have settled into his mind… even then, though he knew that this world had changed a great deal in what he remembered as his time as the first tiered war-mage of a race of people long forgotten by time. The book had been what the goblins had said… and so much more that it wasn’t even amusing.

The book did not just give knowledge; it gave the full memories, in effect making you both the previous heads of the family and yourself, fusing the entities together in their entirety. Harry’s attention was drawn from his musings by a rather painful thud as something slammed into his stomach shoving him into the ground painfully; causing his head to slam into a small rick on the ground, and swiftly sending his mind into the deep realms of darkness… Harry knew no more.


	3. Minor Lessons in Etiquette

Aragorn watched as the mage left the vicinity of their campsite and Gandalf slowly returned to the fire. The old wizard looked very thoughtful and slightly curious still. Apparently he had not learned as much as he had wished about the young appearing mage. He restrained himself from asking the questions that plagued his mind, hoping that once the Istari had processed his thoughts he would share them with the fellowship…. Unfortunately others did not have that sort of patience.

Pippen was the first to be unable to refrain from asking “Gandalf?” and upon seeing he had the old wizard’s attention. “Could you tell me what a mage is and how I should treat him?... I don’t want to make a mistake that could get us into trouble.” 

Gandalf looked surprised and then thoughtful. “Hmm… yes, I suppose it would be a good idea to give you all a bit of knowledge about mages. Wouldn’t want to break etiquette.” And here he sent a quick mirthful glance towards Legolas. 

Legolas gave a slight smile and stared at the fire, pretending not to care about the conversation to hide his slight embarrassment… while listening intently to what the Istari had to say.

“The first thing that you should know about mages is that they are a very touchy lot about certain forms of etiquette. It is fortunate though that for the most part they are relatively small things. The first is obviously their names; the next that you should be VERY careful about is to never question their honor. Mages will not lie, ever; they can deflect you, they can ignore you, or they will give you circular semi-answers until you get confused and leave them alone, but they will not lie.” Gandalf heaved another sigh and stared into the fire, trying to remember everything that he could about what he had been taught about mages.

“Mages were long ago called for aid by the Valar; their special talents were needed to bring a form of balance to this world. There were 32 mages that assisted the Valar but when the 33rd was called he was unwilling to assist the Valar, instead he decided to conquer Middle Earth and make it his own. The Valar spent a great deal of time and power sending this Mage away from this realm, but as the mage was leaving he swore that he would be back to conquer and enslave all of Arda.” He sat back and pulled out his pipe, tamping down the tobacco within and relaxed a bit into his thoughts. Three puffs later he took a deep breath and continued. “So you can see why I was worried when we first met the Mage, but I was also taught that the Mages who had assisted the Valar were to always be treated with respect. For each one that did assist the Valar gave up a great deal to assist in the tribulations that plagued our world.” 

With that Gandalf stood slowly and started to prepare his bedroll, making it clear that the conversation was over.


	4. Sidewindings

Dumbledore supposed that he really shouldn’t have tipped his hand so soon where Harry had been involved… however he now had no one to blame for his own current issues. He glanced down at the tables in front of him and prepared himself for the announcement he had to make.

With a deep sigh and a slight slumping of his shoulders he stood slowly, while desperately ignoring the glares he was receiving from his teachers. He slowly slid his shoulders back and prepared himself. “I am sorry to inform you that despite the celebrations to the contrary the dark lord is still alive…. And I am sorrier than I could ever express to tell you that there has been an attack. After dinner has been finished we will be speaking with a great many students to inform them of any losses or injured family members. Please show compassion for these unfortunate individuals.” 

He slumped back into his seat and tried to pinpoint where this had gone so wrong. Had he missed a horcrux somewhere? He had been so sure that he had gotten all of them, but he supposed it was possible that a new one had been made… oh where had he gone wrong?

COV

* * *  
Voldemort was staring; he couldn’t look away from the book he was reading he had gained knowledge from around the world in the various varieties of magic and never come across anything like this. He knew that he shouldn’t be surprised, after all if that Potter brat could come up with a plan like he had then surely he would have been able to create something like this… but despite that knowledge in his head he was having a hard time accepting what he was reading… seeing… feeling… he had to give it to that Potter boy; there was a lot more hidden beneath that ragged mop than first appears.

Nagini had returned to him after Potter had defeated him; and once again he was surviving off of his familiars’ venom, it had taken him 3 weeks to finally get into a good enough condition to actually understand what she was saying to him, and once he heard it, it took another month to really accept it.

Harry Potter had paved the Dark Lords Path back to Greatness… he had done things that frankly amazed the dark lord and done it all without anyone being aware of it until it was already done. He knew now that he owed the boy a great debt, and he doubted that he would be able to repay it within this lifetime. Voldemort sighed and slumped back into his chair finally released from the power of the book. He had hunted that boy beyond reason… and as a man that had prided himself on that same trait it was a horrible thought. When had he lost so much of his sanity? Where had he gone wrong?   
* * *  
COV

 

Ashsalt looked down at the goblins below him and prevented a sigh from passing his lips. He was remembering the human boy who he had read for. Truly his existence within the goblin clans was a great secret for the goblin seer was amongst the rarest of beings in the worlds. He had been upset upon being informed he was reading a human after the boy had already started the trials; but he had accepted it.

Unlike many seers he did not claim to be all-seeing, he knew very well that that was the way to a swift and agonizing death… no hubris was not his vice. He remembered his first sight of the boy that the wizarding world had dubbed their savior. The huddled shivering boy sitting on the altar of judgment was nothing special to look upon, wearing a number of scars that looked far too old to be from battle but showed that he had still fought for his life. That had been the first sign.

The next sign that had drawn his attention was that his most famous scar was glowing a faint purple, reminiscent of the color violet… and his eyes did not see Ashsalt at all. Despite the naked huddle the boy was in Ashsalt could see clearly the options in this boy future… it was a difficult path no matter what he chose. He saw something within the boy that meant he would travel many paths and that he needed to plan for all contingencies. A smile crept upon his face… if there was one thing that any goblin out of the nursery boroughs could do it was cover all the options.. hiding a smile he stepped forward; the boy was needed.

He was swiftly snapped out of his memories when the final judgment was brought forward. He looked nervously at the jury of goblins and awaited the knowledge of their fates, what happened next would reveal the path of the goblin nations. “Griphook, son of Lockjaw you have been proven guilty of spying on the goblin nations for a wizard who has not accepted out ways and more importantly has no wish to even know of them. As such normally we would execute you and leave your head on a pike before our hallowed doors as a warning to others likeminded. However an allies final request has a punishment in mind for you… as of sunset today, you will be bound to the enemy of the man you were spying for, and as such you lose the rights of a warrior and shall be bound into the form of a house-elf… three days after the transformation is complete your new master shall take you forever from our halls.”

With a satisfied sigh Ashsalt sat back, the path was chosen and it was the better of the two, there was still a chance of the goblins surviving. He was glad that the boy had pointed out this option to him… this was going to be fun.


	5. Disregarding a Fair Warning is Never Wise

Chapter 5

Voldemort had spent over a month hidden away in his study with Nagini and the Book that Harry Potter had left to him. Many would be surprised to see his current appearance, he appeared to be around twenty years of age, strong and charismatic. He was currently standing before the French doors leading to the garden just off his study staring into nothingness, trying still to come to grips with what had happened at Potters will.

After Nagini had again found him and brought him back to healthy enough to comprehend her words, she had lead him to a meadow, which had held a strange book… it had glowed in the moonlight, the cover itself had been a glowing alabaster, though a pale blue aura had glowed its way around the book. He had been fascinated by the power of the magic that had emanated from the deceptively slender volume and had slowly floated towards it, when a small piece of himself had touched the aura around the volume, he had felt a wrenching pain consume him.

For three hours, until the moon was at its highest in the sky he had known nothing but the anguish that consumed him, a thousand times worse than any Cruciatus. When it had finally ended he had had his Voldemort form back, the one he had, had since his resurrection. He had been amazed at the power of this book and he had wondered what great wizard had created the magnificent tome. And then he had opened the book and read the opening… ‘Dear Voldy, You are welcome good luck with the Wizarding world, I am fading; and as such I leave to you the charge that was passed to me, Sincerely Potter.’ And that had sent him spinning for loops in his head.

His brain had for twenty minutes just shut down and refused to comprehend.

Finally Nagini had yanked on his ankle and watched him fall to get his attention, and then she had explained the charge that she had accepted on his behalf as his bonded familiar and soul carrier. Because she had made a magical oath while carrying a piece of his soul he was held to the oath on pain of his magic and life.

The concept was simple… implementing it was a nightmare to consider; in fact if he wasn’t told better in a very stern hiss by his familiar he would have thought that Potter had left it to him and allowed himself to die just so that he would have to be the one to deal with it.

The idea was a council. Overthrow the ministry and reconcile The Great Council. The great council was an odd and powerful thing, and had not been in power since the betrayal of the Orcs some ten thousand years ago. It seemed simple enough, until you thought about it. Every race has two representatives, one male and one female… of each alignment.

Imagine if you would a large hall with every magical being seated within its walls. Now getting past the whole blood feuds, rivals, and species instinctive hatreds (Good Luck!) the next issue was that there were three alignments… not dark and light but Good, Evil, and Neutral. And they all had to work together to get things done by votes…

Voldemort sighed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, slumping further until his forehead pressed against the pane of glass. At least the boy had left him the book. Every page held a worlds worth of knowledge, for example the first page taught him everything there was to know about how to arrange the council. The next taught him the language, ways and history of the goblins. The next the Veela, followed by vampires and centaurs… it went on like this to every magical species… and all the wile every page he read sent his body closer to perfect health.

Harry Potter was healing him, strengthening him, and preparing him for the future he had wanted. To top all of this off he had left several journals of his life to Voldemort as well as his vaults… that’s right the entirety of his vaults went to Lord Voldemort.  
* * *  
Dumbledore stared at Fawkes, surprised to see him moulting once again, he had had a fire day just a week ago. There was something wrong here and he could find no reason for the undue suffering of his familiar. 

A throb from his right wrist completely claimed his attention. Madame Pomfrey had been unable to do more than stop the bleeding. His hand had been severed by the trap that Harry Potter had set upon his own wand (he assumed) to prevent Deatheaters from using it against him, anyone could hold the wand… but to use it was forbidden.

When he had attempted to use the wand to add more beds to the infirmary after the battle, a dome had appeared around the wand, severing his hand just above the wrist. He had watched in shock as his hand had fallen to the floor, a dome covering it and the wand preventing anyone from touching either. Madame Pomfrey had rushed forward to try to reattach the limb; however upon being unable to reach it she had had to make due with attempting to heal his wrist before he died of blood loss.

She had managed to stop the blood from leaving his body but the wound refused to be healed at all. Even now it was still raw and tender, periodically swelling agonizingly before returning to it’s normal size. For five days the hand had been upon the hospice floor, none able to move it. And for some reason the hand remained exactly as it was, no sign of decomposition or decay. Upon the end of the fifth day, the hand and wand had both disappeared, leaving only a small charcoal smear upon the ground where they had lain. Leaving the impression that they had combusted, burning away into nothingness.

Albus in private had sworn to himself later; he now realized that the boy had given him a sort of warning weeks before the incident.

-flashback-

“Harry, Miss Granger has informed me that you have been excited about something lately, I don’t suppose you’d share? I think I could use a little excitement at the moment.”

Harry had beamed at him with a bright face, the happiest he had seen the boy since fifth year… “Well I found a way to prevent anyone from using my wand against me again like Moody suggested!” the boy practically chirped.

Albus had simply gazed at him for a moment, waiting for him to go on, and realizing that he wouldn’t siply asked. “And how did you manage that?”

Harry had given him a sly grin like he was letting him in on a private joke and said “Let’s just say… you never want to touch my wand. It’s an experience you’ll want to avoid at all costs!” After that Harry had refused to speak any more of it. So Dumbledore had assumed that Harry had been just playing around as Dumbledore himself was unaware of a way to prevent such a thing.

-end flashback-

Dumbledore regretted now that he had not pushed harder on the subject, especially as Harry had not been known to lie well and he had seen no signs of falsehood at the time. He groaned as his wrist again started to throb, and he tried again to distract himself with his phoenix.


End file.
